


When You Eliminate The Impossible...

by space_angel



Series: Into the Dark [7]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Genderbender Gabriel, I'm pretty sure I'm in AU territory right now, Jack isn't a paradox, M/M, No Torchwood (Sorry I haven't watched it yet), Sort of mpreg but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_angel/pseuds/space_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor goes to see Rose after all this time, only to find she isn't at home. Luckily, they have the best on the case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gabriel Doesn't Crochet and Spock Doesn't Wear Hats

When The Doctor exited the TARDIS, there was no one in sight within the bunker except Gabriel. Or Gabrielle, as he – she – had recently taken to calling his – her – self. She looked up from her crochet for only a moment, then went back to it. The bib she was making was a horrible, lop-sided thing with ends of yarn sticking out all over the place. She mumbled to herself as she worked, probably counting stitches. The pattern was laid out on the table in front of her, and she checked it often.

                It had been about six months since The Doctor had started hanging about the bunker. He still left often, traveling through time and space, but always seemed to end up here. The Winchesters’ lifestyle was fascinating to him, and there was always danger and excitement. Plus, he liked Gabriel, and felt like he had finally found someone who truly understood him. It was only a little disconcerting that he was now a she.

Gabriel had switched to a female appearance a little over five months ago. She looked basically the same, still short and kind of stocky, but now her hair was longer and wavier, and she had breasts that we swelled due to the pregnancy. Her face had thinned, the skin tighter over more delicate bones, and in the beginning of the pregnancy she had been thinner. She had announced shortly after the change that she was pregnant. It was truly bizarre and The Doctor wondered if the baby would be special somehow, like, maybe it would pop out with wings or something.

                As the bib had grown longer (Gabrielle had been working on it for a couple of months now ever since Sam had handmade a beautiful wooden crib for the baby, but refused to admit that she was jealous that she couldn’t really make anything so nice without her powers) it began to rest atop her belly, which was quite large by now and made more pronounced by the tight shirts she wore to show it off. The Doctor watched as she realized she’d dropped yet another stitch and cursed to herself, sitting down across from her with a smile.

                She glanced at him, then began to tear out the last couple of rows to fix her mistake, saying as she worked, “Well, did you do it?”

                His smiled vanished, “I was going to, but-”

                Stopping what she was doing, she fixed him with a hard look that made him go quiet, “Doctor, humans have very short lives. No one knows that better than us, and you’re wasting time. After Sam has passed, I’ll be able to see him still in Heaven, but you don’t have that luxury.”

                “I know.”

                “Then what are you doing?” She asked, “I looked in on your Rose after you first mentioned her. She’s cute and spunky, a great kid. You need to ask yourself if she’s worth it. The heartache, I mean. And if you can’t say no with absolute certainty, you need to go see her so that you can figure that out.”

                “You went and saw Rose?”

                “I just _looked_ at her, I didn’t talk to her or anything,” She said, “What would I say? ‘Hi, I’m an archangel, friend of The Doctor, pleased to meet you?’”

                “Are you feeling alright, you seem kind of cranky?”

                “He’s fine,” Sam called as he walked into the room.

                “Like you would know how I feel!” Gabrielle said, “And it’s she.”

                He stopped behind her chair and leaned down. She held out for a moment, but finally gave him a quick peck. When he straightened, he wore a pleased smile, as though it had been unexpected. He rubbed her shoulders, “You’re right, dear. I’m sorry.”

                “Don’t say it unless you mean it, _dear_ ,” She snapped, picking up her crochet again.

                “I do, really,” He said, leaning forward so she could see his puppy dog eyes, which weren’t as good as Cas’s, but they got the job done, “You’re doing wonderful, though.”

                Gabrielle smiled a genuine smile, “I love you.”

                “I love you, too,” Sam gave her another quick kiss, then went back to massaging.

                After a couple of minutes of silence, Gabrielle picked their conversation back up as though it had never ended, “You should go see her.”

                A door opened nearby, but The Doctor ignored it. This place was always a flurry of activity. He sighed, “Maybe you’re right. A visit, at least, is long overdue. And I miss London.”

                “You’re going to London?” Jim Kirk dropped into the chair beside him, and Spock sat gracefully in the one on his other side.

                “Yeah, to visit a friend.”

                “Who’s the friend? Is she pretty?” Jim leaned towards him.

                “She’s smoking,” Gabrielle said when The Doctor didn’t answer. “And The Doctor totally wants to tap that.”

                “Whoa, I thought you were with Jack?” Jim asked.

                “No, Jack is just…” The Doctor paused, looking for the word to describe Jack and failing miserably, “Friendly.”

                “Huh,” Jim paused, “Well, what are we waiting for?”

                “We?” The Doctor and Spock said together, though The Doctor sounded much more incredulous than Spock’s more monotone voice.

                “Yeah, the Enterprise is on shore leave right now on a well-to-do planet we’ve had good relations with for quite a while now,” he said, “So we won’t be needed. And I’ve always wanted to see twenty-first century London.”

                “I was unaware of your desire, Captain,” Spock said, tensing enough for even The Doctor to notice, “However, I do not believe this to be a good course of action. In the case of an emergency-”

                “Spock, there aren’t going to be any emergencies.”

                “The nature of emergencies is that they are unexpected, Captain.”

                “And that’s why there are other senior staff,” Jim said, “Look, The Doctor can magic one of our communicators to work in this time, so we’ll be able to keep in contact. Besides, the Enterprise is as safe as can be, considering what we’ve gone through in the past.”

                “Do I get a say in this?” The Doctor asked.

                “They’re humans Doctor, of course you don’t get a say,” Gabrielle said, not looking up from her bib, which she now squinted at with ire. The lights above them intensified in brightness as she tore out more stitches.

                “Captain, you are overlooking one critical detail,” Spock said, “My physiology will be most conspicuous in the current day.”

                “Well, if that’s your biggest and final concern,” Jim said, “Then it’s settled. We’re going, and you’ll wear a hat.”

                The Doctor thought he saw something in Spock’s jaw twitch, “Vulcans do not wear hats,” Spock grated out, trying to appear calm.

                “And James T. Kirk doesn’t give up his wily ways and settle down to become bonded to a Vulcan,” Jim said. “There’s a first time for everything.” There was a long silence in which The Doctor imagined there was an intense conversation occurring between the minds of the two men.

                Finally, the tension went out of Spock, and The Doctor knew he had accepted defeat, “Very well.”

                Jim let out an excited yelp, jumping up and heading away from them, “Let’s see what hat we can find you to cover those deliciously pointy ears of yours.”


	2. A Solitary Rose In A Secret Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor goes to see Rose in London.

They landed in London in their normal fashion, in the same place as usual, and The Doctor half expected to open the door and see Rose running towards him. When he did though, it was deserted. He shrugged, thinking she might not have heard the TARDIS from her apartment or was out somewhere. Jack squeezed by him in the doorway, their bodies brushing together in a way that The Doctor knew was intentional, but mostly instinctual on Jack’s part.

He walked backwards away from The Doctor, “I’m going out. You kids have fun now.”

“Stay out of trouble,” The Doctor called after him, and Jack pretended not to hear.

“Let’s go,” Jim said, pushing him out of the door while pulling Spock behind him. He spun and closed the door, then spun back again to face him, “Where are we going first?”

“I believe The Doctor had plans to see a companion of his,” Spock said.

“Oh,” Jim looked a little deflated, “Right.”

“Well, don’t stop your fun on my account,” he said, “I’ve fixed up your communicators. I’ll keep Mr. Spock’s,” he wiggled it at them and slipped it into his jacket pocket, “And Jim will keep his. Call me if you need anything, and don’t cause trouble.”

“Sounds good,” Jim said, “Make sure you have some fun, too.” He winked.

 

The Doctor left them to it and made his way over to the apartment Rose shared with her mum. Mickey was no longer in this time, and The Doctor wondered for the first time what had become of his apartment and possessions. Surely Rose had explained what happened to her mum, but she couldn’t exactly tell the landlord or police about it. They’d lock her up.

As he approached the door, he thought about just opening it with his sonic screwdriver and sneaking in, just to surprise them. He decided against it though, since he had regenerated since the last time he’d seen them, and knocked instead. A moment later, Jackie opened the door. He grinned at her, but she didn’t smile back, just gave him a wary look, “Who are you?”

“It’s me,” He said, “The Doctor.”

“The…” Jackie went pale and her mouth opened and closed a few times. Then, she was on his, pushing him and hitting him with her fists.

“Ow! What’re you-? Stop!” He grabbed her arms and pinned her to the wall, where she continued to struggle. “Jackie, what’s going on?”

“It’s your fault, isn’t it?” She wailed, “Every time you show up, my Rose goes missing! You took her, did you? And just forgot to tell me? Please, tell me she’s with you. Tell me she’s safe.”

The Doctor stilled, “Rose is missing?”

Jackie seemed to deflate at the question, “Yeah, going on a week now. I had hoped she was with you… I tried calling though, and she didn’t answer…”

He looked around, checking to see if anyone was watching, before practically carrying Jackie inside. He set her on the couch and put on the kettle. Returning to the living room, he sat in a chair across from her, “Tell me what happened.”

Jackie took a deep breath, gathering herself, “People been going missing the past few months. Dozens. The police don’t know what to make of it. Rose was sure it was your kind of work. She was snooping around, trying to figure out what was happening. Then, one day about a week ago, she didn’t come home. I thought maybe you had showed up, and she was off with you, saving the day. After a few days though… I filed a missing person’s report. The police, they don’t sound hopeful. They haven’t found any of the missing people yet, have no leads, not even a body…”

She started to sob again then. The Doctor held her as she cried, but his mind was racing. As soon as she had calmed down, he held her at arm’s length and said, “I’ll find her, Jackie. Don’t you worry. I’ll find her.”

 

It hadn’t taken long for Jack to find some fun. It was dusk when they arrived, and now the sun had already set. He loved London night life, and had ducked into the first club he’d found. There, he’d started dancing and flirting with a variety of people, until someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and was shocked to see Rose.

“Hey,” he said, giving her a hug, “The Doctor went to go see you.”

“Well, I’m not at home,” she said.

“I can see that,” he said, “you look good.” And she did, in a tight t-shirt and jeans that hugged her bum.

“You too,” she said, and he would have sworn she was checking him out. It was confirmed when she said, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Jack was on the verge of saying yes, but then remembered The Doctor. He looked away from her, “I think I might stay, actually. You should go talk to The Doctor.”

Rose rolled her eyes, “Not like that, dummy. For chips.”

He laughed, “You and your chips… alright, let’s go.” She took him by the hand and led him from the club, out into the chilly night air.


	3. A Candle In The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Spock eat at Angelo's restaurant, The Doctor and Spock get pegged, and Jack meets an old friend for the second time.

Jim and Spock were sitting in a small restaurant in a window seat. The owner had come over and said something like, “I bring candle, is more romantic.” And he had, and now Jim and Spock had a small candle. The moment was ruined though because Jim couldn’t help but laugh every time he looked at Spock with his beanie on. Spock was not amused.

A shorter man with dirty blond hair came in and looked at them for a moment, then sat at the table next to them. The owner came up and greeted him excitedly, and Jim eavesdropped as he said, “Doctor, good to see you again. Whatever you want, free, as usual.”

“Thanks,” the man said.

Once the owner had gone off with his order, Jim caught the man’s eye and smiled, “You must be pretty important, to eat free.”

He laughed, “Hardly. I just know a guy that is. Well, he thinks he is at least.”

“Yes, there are times when men believe themselves to be of greater import than they truly are,” Spock said, giving Jim a pointed look. Jim was sure he was raising an eyebrow, but the hat was pulled low to cover them, so he couldn’t see it. He gave him a mental push and smiled, turning back to the stranger.

“Who’s your friend?”

“He’s a consulting detective,” he said, “His name is-”

At that moment, the door flew open and The Doctor rushed in and over to their table. “What’s the problem?” Jim asked, standing up.

“Rose is missing,” The Doctor said, “There’s been a string of disappearances lately, no trace of the missing people whatsoever, and I think Rose is among them now.”

“What do you want to do?” Jim asked.

“I’m going to find her,” he said, intense and a little terrifying, even to Jim, “This seems to be within my area of expertise. We need to do a little investigating, first though. Find out where she is.”

“My friend,” the stranger said, standing up now too, “The one I was telling you about. He’s actually consulting with the police right now on that case. I could take you to see him. If you’re really an expert in… whatever it is, disappearances? Never mind. Anyways, he’d be interested in your input and you could maybe get some more information to help you find your friend.”

The Doctor thought for a moment, “Alright, but let’s be quick. She’s already been gone a week, and I want to find her as soon as possible.”

 

They arrived at the lab about twenty minutes later to find a tall, thin, rather pale man bent over a microscope. Not two seconds had they been in the door when it opened again and a man with graying hair came in. He cleared his throat loudly, “Where’s Molly?”

“She's your girlfriend,” The man at the microscope said.

“Don’t you know?” He replied, “I thought you knew everything.”

“Of course I know. She went down to the machine to get crisps.”

“She told you that before she left, didn’t you?”

“No... I asked her to go.”

“Alright,” John, who had introduced himself on the way over, said, “This is Jim and his husband Spock, and The Doctor. Everyone, this is Detective Inspector Lestrade and my boyfriend Sherlock Holmes.”

“Doctor Who?” Sherlock asked, still not looking up.

“Just The Doctor,” The Doctor said.

“Fascinating,” Spock said.

“What is?” Jim asked, but Spock sent a message through their bond saying he would explain later.

“Well, that can’t be right,” Sherlock said, looking up. His eyes scanned over them all quickly, and as he looked long, his eyebrows knitted, “Then again, there is always the chance that you’re actually aliens. It would certainly explain a lot.”

“What? About them?” John asked. “They seem normal to me.”

Sherlock fixed him with a look, reminding him that he was an idiot, “About them, and about this case.”

“You’ve had a breakthrough on the case?” Molly said, entering the room behind the group. She had two bags of crisps in her hands, “Who are all of you?”

“This is…” John started.

“Never mind their names,” Sherlock said. Molly seemed vaguely hurt, and Lestrade moved to her side. He kissed her cheek and she handed him Sherlock’s bag of crisps, which he promptly opened and began to eat, grinning at Sherlock, who glared and pressed on, “They’re aliens, and seeing as I’ve been having troubles with some evidence that is quite alien, they should prove useful. So long as they’re not complete idiots, which is unlikely.”

Suddenly Jim let out a loud laugh that sounded like a yell, confirmed only as a laugh by the way his shoulders shook. He doubled over and continued to laugh hysterically for a few moments, until he stood back up with a sigh, wiping his eyes, “Sorry. It’s just,” –chuckle- “You calling Spock an idiot. Whew.”

“I do not understand the source of your amusement, Captain,” Spock said.

“Oh, don’t go calling me ‘Captain’ now,” Jim said, pouting at him, “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me, and you’ll confuse everyone by saying things we can’t explain.”

“No, I believe it is you who has done that,” Spock replied.

“I just meant, you know…”

“Yes, _I_ do.”

Jim pouted some more. The Doctor interjected before he could continue to stick his foot in his mouth, “We’d be happy to help, but not here.”

“Very well,” Sherlock said, suddenly moving about quickly, gathering his things. “Molly, Lestrade, you two take over here. We will go to Baker Street.” With that, he walked out the door, not even looking to see if everyone was following him.

 

Jack woke up slowly. His head was aching and his mouth was gritty. As he came back to himself, he remembered leaving the club with Rose, then a searing pain in the back of his head. He became aware that a hand was softly stroking his head, which was not resting on solid ground, but a warm, soft body.

He jerked upright to find that he had been resting his head on a leg, and that the leg also belonged to the hand that had been stroking his head, and that both belong to Rose Tyler. Scrambling backwards, his back came in contact with a wall, and he realized that he was now in some sort of room. It looked clinical in nature, all white with that antiseptic smell, but there was no furniture present. He turned back to Rose, “What’s going on?” She made to answer, but he’d thought of a new question, “You hit me! Why’d you do that? Where are we? _Who_ are you?”

Rose put up a hand and made a face at him, “What’s going on is you’ve been kidnapped, like I was a week ago. Me, Rose Tyler, kidnapped one week ago. Got it?” He nodded so she went on, “The person – thing – that hit you wasn’t me, but a copy of me. It brought you here, wherever this is, so that it could use us to get to The Doctor.”

“What? What’s it want with The Doctor? How did it know he was coming at all?”

“Wait, you mean The Doctor is here?”

“Yeah, he came to see you. How’d you think I got here?”

Rose put her hands over her face and seemed to curl in on herself, muttering, “No no no nonononono.” 


	4. Whatever Remains, However Improbable, Must Be The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor notices a significant clue, John is more helpful than people think, and Spock reveals an interesting tidbit about his family tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is totally dedicated to Luindhao. You'll know why when you see it. XD

The five of them crammed into a taxi and arrived at Baker Street, jogging up to the door. As Sherlock made to grasp the doorknob, the door opened to reveal two women standing there, one brunette and one ginger, both with long hair and dressed to go out. They smiled and said hello as they walked out the door past them all, and into the London night.

“Friends of yours?” Jim said, looking after them. Spock minutely frowned at him.

“Renae and Elaine,” John said, “They just moved into flat C. After all the press Sherlock received, Mrs. Hudson wasn’t about to lease out it to just anyone, but they moved here from America just out of college. They seem nice.”

“Are they…?” Jim gave them a significant look.

“A little strange…” Sherlock said, walking up the stairs. He never was very good at the nuances of human interaction. That’s what he had John for.

“That coming from you,” John said.

“You’re the one consorting with aliens,” Sherlock was saying as they all entered flat B.

“The disappearances,” The Doctor interrupted, “Do you have any ideas about where they’ve been taken?”

“Straight to business then,” Sherlock said. “I will explain.” For hours they worked, mostly Sherlock, The Doctor, and Spock. John and Jim made dinner, then tea, and finally sat watching the telly on mute. John had let him borrow some PJ’s, and they were sitting side by side on the floor. They talked quietly about things, telling each other about their lives. Jim admired that John seemed to take the fact that he was from the future and space in stride.

A crash startled them out of their quiet conversation. John jumped up and ran over to where Sherlock had collapsed to the floor, taking an end table with him. He helped him up with Spock’s assistance, and got him into a chair, all while Sherlock kept saying, “Fine. Fine. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” John said. “You were shot less than three weeks ago. You’re still healing, and now you’re pushing yourself too hard. I know what it’s like Sherlock, and I am a doctor. You’re going to bed.” He turned to The Doctor, “I’m sorry about your friend, but we should all get some rest. We’ll start up again in the morning.”

“Of course, “ The Doctor mumbled, still looking through Sherlock’s notes.

Jim walked up, “What about you Spock?”

“I do not require…”

“I know what you require,” Jim interrupted. “And I also know you’re tired. At least come meditate for a while, just till I fall asleep.” He took Spock hand and tugged him off towards the stairs and John’s old room, where John had made up the bed for them.

“Very well,” Spock said, and followed him upstairs.

“Come on,” John helped Sherlock up, despite the height difference, and helped him into their bedroom, closing the door, and leaving The Doctor still shuffling through notes.

 

The Doctor sat alone now, and finally let himself come apart. Rose. Alone, scared, maybe dead. Did she wish he was there? Or worse, did she wish she had never met him? Did he wish that? She would be safe, at home, with her mum and Mickey. She’d have never known the joys of the life he lived, and so would never have had to miss them. To miss him. She did, didn’t she? Miss him?

The papers fell from his hands, onto the table. He was a Time Lord. He should have known. Why did he ever bring companions along with him? No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t the companions. It was Rose. It was always Rose. His Rose. He’d put her in danger time and again. At first it was just like with any other companion. It was her choice. But then, he’d started to care for her, and he’d have done anything to protect her. He should have sent her back then, should have seen it would lead to trouble, but he was selfish.

The regenerations had changed him, nine had loved her first, and ten had loved her more than eleven… but now he was fifteen, and despite all the changes and the time apart, he still loved her. It hadn’t been that way with any of the others. Curse his red hair and two hearts, because if anything, this Doctor loved her more than any of the others yet. It’s why he’d come back, because he was incapable of staying away any longer, even if it was better for the both of them. Even if she was mortal and he was timeless.

He’d give up the rest of his life, whether it be an eternity or just one day, he’d give it to be with her for the rest of it. A splotch of wetness fell onto the paper beneath him. He blinked at it. It was something he hadn’t done in a long time, and he didn’t acknowledge it. Couldn’t, without admitting what he’d feared to be true for so long, since he’d first seen Rose emerge from the TARDIS with the glow of the time vortex in her eyes: he had become – been made, by her – more mortal than he had ever intended, or cared, to be.

He dabbed at the wet splotch on the paper till it was gone, and only then did he realize the words it had landed on. Looking at the ink that had come off on his finger from _those words_ , he laughed to himself. His Rose, she really was something else. He grabbed the paper and went over to the couch. Laying down, he held it over his two beating hearts, and closed his eyes. He fell asleep holding that paper, on which some police officer had recorded, as a meager side note, that at the site where Rose was believed to have been taken from, were scrawled across the ground in red paint the words _Bad Wolf_.

 

John had helped Sherlock change and checked on his still healing wound. Finally, once satisfied, he’d helped him into bed. They lay side by side, and though John was dead tired, he couldn’t fall asleep.

“Stop it,” he mumbled.

“What?” Sherlock said.

“I can hear you thinking,” John opened his eyes and rolled onto his side to see Sherlock staring up at the ceiling.

“I can’t stop,” he said. “This case, it’s bothering me.”

“Maybe because of the aliens? That would bother most people.”

“No, no,” he said. “It’s not that. Once you eliminate the impossible…”

“Whatever remains, however improbable, is the truth,” John finished. “Yes, yes. I know. Then what is it that’s bothering you?”

“The victims have no connection, there’s no pattern, other than the sheer alieness of the crime itself,” Sherlock said. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Like, whoever is doing this is doing it just for the sake of the act itself?”

“No, even serial killers have some fantasy they’re playing out, which would show up in the killings.”

“What if it’s not about the killings at all?”

“What do you mean?”

“Say that killer is committing these crimes for another reason, in which the victims are just means to an end.”

“Like some kind of message?” Sherlock rolled onto his side now, facing John.

“Yes, and its odd, isn’t it, that The Doctor happened to show up at the same time?” John said.

“Not only that, but one of his friends has been a victim as well.”

“Yes, and he was trying to make contact with another friend of his, Jack, earlier, but he couldn’t reach him. He said that was normal, and he had probably found someone to spend the night with, but given the circumstances…”

“Of course,” Sherlock said. “He mentioned that the girl… what was her name?”

“Rose.”

“Right, Rose,” he said, “Believed that these kidnappings were his kind of work, and that they were connected to him. That’s why she was investigating them, and got herself caught in the process.”

“That’s it then? It’s all about The Doctor.”

“Yes!” Sherlock flew up in bed and made as though to get up, but he flinched and froze halfway out. His breathing was shallow and when John reached out to grab his arm, he found it clammy.

“Sherlock, everyone’s resting now,” he said, “And we still don’t have anything definitive. Try to get some sleep.”

“Can’t…” Sherlock said, relaxing now and turning so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “My mind won’t let me, John. I need to think.”

John sat up and crawled up behind Sherlock, resting his chin on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around his chest. He kissed his cheek quickly, then whispered in his ear, “What if I distract you?”

Sherlock chuckled, “Do you think you can?”

Rising willingly to the bait, he pulled Sherlock back down so he was lying on the bed, “I might not be a genius, but I’m sure I can think of something.” He kissed him on the lips, cheek, neck, before finally pulling up his shirt. When he did, it gave him pause. The white bandage was tapped  just a few centimeters about Sherlock’s heart, and it clung to the skin, slightly damp with the antibiotic cream he’d put on the wound earlier. It had been so close. It hurt him to see it, to remember that day when he thought he’d lost Sherlock for the second time.

“John?” He hadn’t realized how long he’d been sitting there, staring, or that he was crying. Without looking up at Sherlock, who, after all their time together, knew everything he was thinking and feeling anyways, John moved down to Sherlock’s stomach and rested his head there for a moment. Sherlock’s fingers moved through his hair, gently pulling and stroking. It made John shudder.

With one last kiss on pale, delicate skin, John pulled down Sherlock’s trousers and pants, and started to help him to stop thinking, to lose his mind completely, if only long enough for him to fall into sleep.

 

Jim sighed, his head resting on Spock’s bare chest. His sweat was still cooling, and he’d thrown off the blanket, Spock’s natural heat already almost too hot, so that they were both lying bare. He ran a hand up and down Spock’s side, over his heart, and said drowsily, “What was so fascinating earlier?”

“You are referring to when we were at the lab?”

“Mhmm,” Jim mumbled.

“An ancestor of mine maintained that when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” Spock said.

“Yeah, you’ve said that before.”

“Yes,” Spock said, “That ancestor was Sherlock Holmes.”

Jim jerked upright, looking down at Spock with a mix of shock and dismay, “You’re related to a psychopath?”

Spock raised one eyebrow, “On the contrary, Jim, he is a high-functioning sociopath.”


	5. Long Gone John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John goes out to get milk and bread. Rose and Jack talk about lupines.

Jim was the last to get up. He staggered into the living room, still in his pajamas, to find Spock, Sherlock, and The Doctor sitting and talking.

“It does seem logical,” Spock was saying.

“Even if these are some sort of message to bring me here, it doesn’t bring us any closer to finding where Rose is, and now probably Jack.”

“You haven’t been able to reach him?” Jim asked.

“No.”

They were all quiet until Jim turned to Sherlock, “Where’s John?”

“He left a note,” Sherlock said.

Jim waited a few beats, but Sherlock didn’t go on, “And?”

“What?” Sherlock, who had been staring at the smiley face on the wall with a brooding and determined look, glanced up at him suddenly, as though he had forgotten he was even there, let alone that they had been talking.

“What did John’s note say?” Jim said.

“I didn’t read it,” Sherlock said, waving a hand dismissively. Jim rolled his eyes and crossed over to the table where the note was sitting. He picked it up and quickly read the few words scrawled on it.

“What time did he leave?” Jim asked, his brow furrowing.

“At approximately 0500 hours,” Spock said. He’d removed his hat, apparently feeling comfortable enough with the current company to let them see his ears and eyebrows. It made Jim grin to see how little a difference it made with Sherlock and John. He was beginning to like twenty-first century London.

His grin faltered as he read the note again, “How long does it usually take him to get milk and bread? It says here that’s what he was going out to get. Apparently you forgot again.”

Sherlock stiffened, “What time is it now?”

“Eight,” The Doctor said, standing up and reaching for his coat. He pulled it on quickly, “Let’s go.” They were all a flurry, pulling on clothes. Jim took the longest, still in his bed clothes and not fully awake, but they made it out the door. They walked quickly, and it wasn’t long before they had reached the nearby store John usually went to.

Sherlock went in and questioned the clerk, then came back out to where they waited, “The clerk has been there all morning and hasn’t seen him.” To anyone else, Sherlock probably didn’t appear worried by the news, but Jim was married to a Vulcan, and he could see that the man was shaken.

“Let’s back track,” he said. “John was probably intercepted on his way to the store.”

They walked back towards the flat slower, carefully observing their surroundings, until Sherlock stopped and pointed, “There.” The ‘there’ he was referring to was actually a street over, and they had to cut down an alley to get there. It was a crime scene, taped off, and in the center of it stood Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and Molly Hooper. Molly was kneeling next to the wall, prying something out of it, while Lestrade was talking to someone and taking notes.

Sherlock walked up to Molly, “What’s happened.”

“Hey,” she said, “Sorry we didn’t call. Greg and I were out late last night; it was our anniversary. We were late getting here. I was going to ask a uniform to go over to your place and get you, since you were so close, right after I got this bullet out of the wall.”

“Bullet?” Sherlock asked, and seemed to go impossibly paler.

“Yeah, there was another abduction,” she said. “Apparently the guy got off a shot though, so we have a couple of witnesses this time. It was still pretty dark when it happened though, so there’s not a lot to go on. Better than nothing though, I guess.”

“What time did the attack occur?”

“A little after five,” Molly said. “There!” The bullet came out of the wall. Before she could bag it, Sherlock had knelt and grabbed her wrist, bringing the bullet closer to his face.

His exhale was shaky, “It’s the same kind John uses.”

“John?” Molly repeated.

“He must have been attacked and drug into the alley,” Jim said.

“He might have injured his assailant,” The Doctor said, “There appears to be some blood leading in the direction we know John was drug off in.”

“There is also a strange odor in the air,” Spock said. “I cannot identify it, but it is quite distinctive.”

“I don’t smell anything,” Jim said. Spock gave him a look.

“John’s missing?” Molly looked panicked. Sherlock didn’t answer. He was spinning, taking in everything, his eyes flickering quickly, and they could practically see his mind going a mile a minute.

“Yes,” The Doctor replied instead, “But we’re going to find him, and it’ll lead us to Rose and Jack as well. Let’s get going.”

“Jack? There hasn’t been any victim named Jack,” Molly seemed to be losing it, her eyes going distant and her lip trembling.

Lestrade walked over then, and one look at Molly had him on edge, “What’s going on?” He wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned against him, looking at but not seeing him.

“John,” She said, her voice monotone, “It was John.”

“What?” Lestrade said, turning to Sherlock.

“Everyone, shut up,” Sherlock snapped suddenly. They were all quiet as he mumbled to himself, then he finally said, “Lestrade, I need to borrow your car. I’ll have your culprit by the end of the day.”

Lestrade hesitated, then reached into his pocket, “Whatever you need, just get him back, would you? He makes you tolerable.” He tossed Sherlock the keys. Sherlock nodded, then was off, and the rest of them followed him.

 

Jack had been pacing for hours, and so it was startling to Rose when he suddenly plopped down and laid back on the floor, closing his eyes. He exhaled sharply, “So what are we going to do, just sit here and wait for The Doctor to show up?”

From where she sat in the corner, Rose could see the door. She stared at it almost constantly, but now she looked at him, “Unless you have a better idea, yeah.”

“That’s not good enough,” he said. “I mean, we should at least try to figure out who has us.”

“I’ve tried, but I don’t know enough about… everything,” Rose said, looking back to the door.

They were quiet for a while, until Jack asked, “You said there were others who had been kidnapped. That they were in the news and you thought they were weird. The Doctor weird. So you investigated and got yourself caught.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, have you seen anyone else? I mean, if this thing is keeping the others as long as its kept you, shouldn’t you have heard or seen someone else?”

“I don’t know. If this is a large building with a lot of rooms like this, maybe it’s keeping them somewhere else.”

“It just seems strange,” Jack said, then paused. “Hey, what’s Bad Wolf? I think I've heard that somewhere before.”

“What?” Rose said, her eyes flicking over to him.

He was looking up at the ceiling still, “Bad Wolf. It’s there.” He pointed up. She stood and crossed over to where he was laying. Looking up, she didn’t see it at first. Then, she noticed it. It was on the light fixture, written in block letters on the rim, like a manufacturer logo. Her heart jumped, but she didn’t know why. She walked over to the door and looked at it. Sure enough, on the door handle were the word Bad Wolf in the same block lettering.

“Strange,” she said. “It sounds so familiar, like I’ve heard it before, but I can’t remember where.”


	6. A Wolf In The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is an alien encounter, and not a small bit of confusion. But that's pretty standard for such occurrences.

They were driving slow. The Doctor and Jim were looking out the window, following the blood splotches with their eyes, but that soon ran thin and then disappeared altogether. At that point they rolled down the window, and drove even slower. Spock stuck his head out the window and sniffed the air, following the scent and giving directions. In the back seat, Jim couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the situation. They went on for miles in that way.

Finally, they came to what appeared to be a dilapidated, old clinic in a bad neighborhood. It was surrounded by large, worn warehouses and abandoned apartment buildings that towered over it, closing it off from the main road. They parked the car farther up the street, out of sight. Getting out, they all stood thinking for a moment.

“We should split up, have two go in the front and two in the back,” Jim said.

“I do not know if that is wise,” Spock said, “We are unarmed and do not know our adversary.”

“We’ll cover more ground though, and increase of chances of finding Rose, Jack, and John faster,” Sherlock said.

“It might not expect an attack from both sides, either,” The Doctor said, “We might take it by surprise and trap it.”

Spock nodded slowly, “Very well. I will go with Mr. Holmes through the front, while Jim and The Doctor go through the back.”

They split and started towards the clinic, trying to stay close to the other buildings and out of sight. As they approached, The Doctor paused for a moment, and Jim halted a few steps in front of him, turning back to him, “What is it?”

“The windows,” he said.

Jim followed his gaze, back towards the building. At first he didn’t see anything, but then noticed that some of the windows were boarded up, and formed words, “Bad Wolf? What’s that?”

The Doctor didn’t answer, but started moving faster than before towards the building, no longer bothering to hide himself. Jim relucantly followed.

 

Spock and Sherlock made their way towards the front much more slowly. When they paused, waiting a moment before jogging to the next building, Sherlock said, “I am interested to know more about your species. You seem to be very intelligent, in a way that most humans are lacking.”

“Humans have their own sort of brilliance,” Spock said, avoiding the topic of his lineage.

“Yes,” Sherlock said, “They do. We seem similar in that respect. Both of us with such emotional, illogical humans for companions.”

“We are alike in many ways.”

“I thought so as well,” Sherlock said, “Is your species usually similar to humans, or is that just you?”

“Humans and Vulcans share some traits,” Spock said, “However, I may share more with humans than most Vulcans because of my mixed heritage. My mother was human.”

“Vulcan…” Sherlock said, “Is that common, Vulcans and Humans together?”

“No,” Spock said, “However, my mother believed that most anything was possible, especially if love was involved. It was not a concept my father encouraged, as Vulcans frown upon emotion of any sort, but especially one they believe to be so frivolous as love. After her death, I wished I had listened to her more.”

“She must have been quite remarkable,” Sherlock said. “What was her name?”

“Amanda.”

“Hm,” Sherlock said, “That’s my mother’s middle name.”

“Then it is a family name,” Spock replied. Sherlock turned and gave him a quizzical look, but they had reached the door.

 

It didn’t take them long to find John, considering he was tied to a chair in the lobby. Standing behind him was a woman with blond hair and a gun. She held it to John’s temple, “Which one of you is The Doctor.”

“Neither of us,” Sherlock said.

“Liar,” She hissed, “I know one of you is him. I knew you would come back here Doctor, back to your precious Earth. So I thought I would wait for you here, make a bit of a ruckus to get your attention. Then, you would give me what I wanted or I’d raise the stakes. A bomb on a bus here, a gas leak in Parliament there.”

“And what is it that you want?” Spock asked.

“To gaze into the heart of the TARDIS,” she said. “With that power, I could make everything right again. I could fix all of it.”

“You can’t, that’s not what it’s meant for,” The Doctor said, strolling in from a hallway behind her. “And you couldn’t contain the power, it would kill you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” She yelled, “So long as they’re safe.”

“Who-” They were interrupted by pounding on a door to one side of the woman and John. Muffled voices could be heard shouting within. The Doctor reached into his jacket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He handed it Jim, “Go open that, would you?”

Jim ran over, carefully skirting the woman, and unlocked the door. The moment he did, it burst open and knocked him down. Rose and Jack stumbled out into the lobby. They paused, then Jack saw Jim and made to help him up, apologizing.

Rose scanned the room quickly, and her eyes locked on The Doctor. Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice cracked when she said, “Doctor.”

His brow furrowed, “How did you know?”

“How could I not?” She said, and started to sob. She started across the lobby towards him, completely unaware of what was going on around her. The Doctor moved towards her, but before he had taken even two steps, the woman with the gun left John’s side and grabbed Rose instead.

“Who are you? How did you get in that room?” She asked, tightening an arm around Rose’s neck and pushing the gun into her temple.

“You mean you didn’t bring her here?” Sherlock asked.

“No,” She snapped, “And neither did anyone else. I’ve been hiding here for weeks, bringing people here. There’s no way I wouldn't have seen.” The alien's red eyes seemed to flare in the dim light.

“I’ve been in there for a week,” Rose said, “Some creature that had made itself look just like me kidnapped me and brought me here.”

“No!” The woman screamed, “You’re lying.” Her hand tighten around the gun.

“There’s no reason to get upset,” The Doctor said.

“You’re killing them. You’re killing my people,” She yelled, her grip on Rose tightening.

At that moment, movement caught her eye. Sherlock had moved around the room and was now at John’s side, attempting to undo his restraints, “Stop!” She yelled, pointing the gun at him. With the gun no longer pointed at her, Rose slipped out of her grip and ran towards The Doctor. The woman screeched ‘no’ and whirled the gun around again. Jim, Jack, and Spock all lunged towards her, but the gun went off just as Spock reached her, his fingers instinctively finding the spot in the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She fell to the ground, unconscious.


	7. Who's Afraid Of The Big, Bad Wolf?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is insanity. All of it, for this?"
> 
> "For you, Doctor."

The Doctor stood in shock. He took a couple of steps, then collapsed to his knees. His front was covered in blood splatter, the knees of his jeans soaking up the blood that was beginning to pool around where Rose lay sprawled on the floor. She was face down. He grabbed her, rolling her over, cradling her head in his arm and brushing hair out of her face. When his tears fell onto her skin, he wiped them away gently with his hand.

John had been cut free, and now they all stood around where he knelt on the floor. All except Jack, who was sitting in the chair John had occupied, head in his hands, sobbing. Everything was quiet, but the Doctor heard a ringing in his ears. That was why he didn’t hear the exclamations from the others, or the footsteps approaching him, until he saw the shoes appear in his line of sight. Then, all he could think was that Rose owned a pair just like them.

It gave him pause. Not only did Rose own a pair just like them, she owned that exact pair. And she was wearing them. He looked down her body just to make sure. They were the same. Still in a state of shock, he looked up. Standing above him was Rose.

As he looked at her, her eyes began to glow with a gold light. He inhaled sharply, “It wasn’t a creature that looked like Rose that brought her and Jack here. It was Rose. Bad Wolf.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Why?” He asked, tears still rolling down his cheeks. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve killed yourself.”

“They had to be here, because I saw all that could be,” She said. “And I saw the one thing I wanted most, so I left myself the messages, to bring me here, so that I could bring them here. It drew you to this place, to the one who had been killing humans. It was all necessary, so that I could die.”

“I don’t understand,” he said.

She looked down at him, her eyes glowing, then she looked past him, to herself, lying dead, “I bring life.” The Rose in his arms jerked, gasping in a breath. She squeezed her eyes shut, rolling to the side and burying her face into The Doctor.

The Doctor’s eyes widened as he looked up at Bad Wolf, “Rose, this is insanity. All of it, for this?”

“For you, Doctor,” She said, and as they watched on, she disintegrated, turning into golden dust as her atoms split, until the space she had once occupied was empty.

 

They all made their way back to Baker’s street, Sherlock, John, and Spock taking the unconscious alien in Lestrade’s car. Jim, The Doctor, Jack and Rose called a cab and waited. Rose was out of it, leaning heavily against The Doctor as they sat on the curb. He held her, quiet, until finally he couldn’t contain it anymore, “You’re a bloody idiot, Rose Tyler.”

She let out a sob that she had apparently been holding in, and he instantly felt guilty, but before he could speak, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” he stroked her hair, “Don’t. You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.”

“Explain it to me?” She sounded sleepy.

He explained anyways, “Back when I was still the first Doctor you knew, I sent you back to Earth so that you would be safe. So you wouldn’t die along with me. But you had to go and muck it up by looking into the heart of the TARDIS, the time vortex. It turns out you were a paradox, Rose. You were Rose, but you were also Bad Wolf, an all-powerful being who had created herself. You came back for me, saved me, but I was forced to draw the time vortex out of you before it killed you. That’s why I had to regenerate.”

“You never told me…”

“There’s more, though most of this is speculation,” he said, “It turns out that when you were Bad Wolf, you could see everything that was, would be, or could be. You saw today, Rose. So you left the words Bad Wolf here, so that all-powerful you could follow them and come here. When you did, you kidnapped yourself and brought you here, where you knew a volatile alien was hiding. Then, you kidnapped Jack, too. You probably also led John to that woman, but I guess we’ll never know. You set yourself up to be killed, Rose.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I think…” he said, “I think you did it so that you could bring yourself back, so that you would be like Jack: immortal.”

Rose looked up at him, confusion on her face, “I’m immortal?” He nodded. She stared at him, as though waiting for him to laugh and say it was all a joke. When he didn’t, she laid her head back down.

“I thought for a long time that when someone was brought back and was immortal, that they were a paradox and could no longer step foot inside the TARDIS without consequences,” he said. “But then I thought about Bad Wolf, probably the biggest paradox of all. A being that had left messages for itself before it existed so that it could find its way when it did exist. One who created herself. She rode the TARDIS back to me, and you rode safely inside after that, though you were an extension of that paradox. That’s when I thought maybe I was wrong. That’s why I went back for Jack.”

“So, I can go with you?” Rose mumbled into his shirt.

“Of course,” he said, and kissed the top of her head.

 

When they arrived at the flat, Spock carried the alien upstairs. He sat her in a chair and duct taped her arms and legs to it. Sherlock had helped John up the stairs, and was getting an ice pack and pain medicine for his head where she’d hit him during their struggle that morning in the alley. As Spock made to leave her, he heard her say, “I’ve failed.”

“How so?” He asked.

“I needed the power of the time vortex to go back in time, to save my people,” she said. “So many of them are dead now. There are hardly any of us left.”

Spock squatted in front of her, “I understand your circumstances. My people have been made nearly extinct in a massive genocide. However, there are some things that simply cannot be changed.”

“It took everything from me,” she said. “How will I go on living, when everyone I love is dead? There is no one and nothing left for me in this world. How can I go on?”

He thought for a long moment. When his planet had been destroyed, he'd had Jim and Uhura, and his father, and his work. They were the only reasons he'd found the strength to go on. He looked away from her as tears began to run down her cheeks, and whispered, “I don’t know.”


	8. Home Is Where Your Heart(s) Is(Are)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out the alien is a swan. Rose just wants to tap The Doctor, but her mom keeps interrupting (luckily they have the rest of their long lives). Sherlock gets a visit from an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm going to tell you now that I didn't really like BBC's adaptation of Irene Adler. She was pretty badass, smart, and sassy for some of it though, I will give them that. However, she really wasn't cannon, was kind of a bitch, wound up being head over heels for Sherlock, had to be saved from certain death, needed Moriarty to pull off her schemes, and the whole thing pissed me off. But that's just my opinion. Since this is my story though, I'm going to twist the plot around to something I like. So here you go.

There were too many of them in 221B Baker Street. By 8 o’clock that night, John was already asleep in his and Sherlock’s room, and he’d made a fuss until Sherlock had agreed to stay with him. They’d given Rose and The Doctor the room upstairs. She’d gone straight to bed after getting back that morning (dying and being brought back as an immortal can make one quite tired) and The Doctor hadn’t left her side, though there were times they could hear him pacing the floor upstairs. Jack had been hungry and tired, too, and after eating, had passed out on the couch.

That left Jim and Spock to watch the alien. Jim sighed, “Why is it I suggest we go on a vacation, and we still wind up chasing down aliens.”

“It was all rather fascinating,” Spock replied.

“You would think so,” Jim said. “You don’t understand what a vacation really is.”

“I understand the concept, though I find such things unnecessary since…”

“Blah blah blah, Vulcan biology,” Jim said. “I know.” He felt Spock chuckle through their bond.

Just then the alien stirred. She pulled at her restraints and they ripped. She jumped up. Spock was on her, but she deflected his attacks, throwing her own, and knocking him to the ground. Jim had just managed to stand up and start towards her, but she spun around and ran towards the window. The impact of her body caused the glass to shatter, the high-pitched, tinkling noise reverberating through the flat. Jack jolted up, and Sherlock was out of his door in moments, and The Doctor was down the stairs moments later. They all stood at the broken window, looking down at the broken body of the alien lying in the street below.

“Why?” Jack said.

“Her whole race had been destroyed, everything she loved was gone,” Jim said. “With nothing left, it doesn’t really leave much reason to want to live on, I guess.” Despite the presence of other people, Spock reached over and grabbed Jim’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Jim could feel the pain in Spock’s mind, the empathy, and if anything, he wished he had saved that alien girl just so Spock would never have had to feel it.

 

They told Lestrade the truth, then he wrote in his report that the woman had been a fanatic fan of Sherlock’s, and when he had spurned her love (politely, of course) she had gone mad with the rejection and flung herself from the window. It was all rather tragic, and they had tried to stop her, but were too late. Of course, Molly confirmed that she had jumped, since that much was the truth.

The next day, Rose and The Doctor went back to her house, and Jack returned to the TARDIS. Jim and Spock stayed on with John and Sherlock for a few more days. They tried not to tell them too much about the future, but Sherlock could usually guess a lot of it. Luckily, he and John seemed not to care less about the whole thing. Though it made Jim nervous when John sat down to blog about the whole thing. Reading it later though, he realized the man had true skill in splicing words. It was an art form really.

Jack stopped by a couple of times, but he never stayed the night again, choosing to spend it with someone else or in the TARDIS. He checked in on Rose and The Doctor, too, but he couldn’t help feeling like a third wheel, much as he had when he’d traveled with them the first time. Rose was doing well though, but it was to be expected. They weren’t really willing to test out her immortality, but they took it on good faith. It was too bad being brought back hadn’t also given her the ability to deflect her mother. Jackie was her usual self, overjoyed when Rose came back, confused when they tried to explain everything to her, and upset when Rose said she was leaving with The Doctor again.

Through it all, Rose just wanted a moment of peace and quiet with The Doctor. In all the commotion afterwards, it wasn’t until a few days later that she got it, and it wasn’t really quite what she was expecting. In the middle of one of her arguments with her mum, The Doctor walked up and grabbed her hand. He had the smile on his face and gleam in his eyes that swore he was up to no good. So out the door they rushed, while Jackie hollered behind them.

They slowed eventually, but held on to each other’s hands. Finally, The Doctor sat her down at a fountain’s edge, then went up to a vendor and bought chips. They ate them in silence, which wasn’t exactly what Rose had had in mind. Not able to take it any longer, she sat her half-finished chips down and turned to him. Without warning, she grabbed his face and smashed their mouths together, then her arms were around him, and she was pulling their torsos flush against each other. It was dirty and not at all appropriate for a public place, with children about, but The Doctor wasn’t really complaining. In fact, he was doing quite the opposite when his hands ran down her body and squeezed her bum.

When they parted, panting, Rose continued to place small kisses all over his face and neck. He cleared his throat, “Maybe we should leave.”

“Mmm,” Rose said, “I like your new vessel. Hair’s nice.”

He chuckled, but then was serious again, “What if I have to regenerate again and come back as an old man or something?”

She paused and pulled back, cupping his cheek and smiling at him, “Remember the first you? Hardly an old man, and cute, but still… You were a little old for me, don’t you think? And you won me over then, didn’t you? Doctor, I will always love you and want to be with you.”

“And I will always love you, Rose,” he said. “I mean, being with me is good and all, but, I mean, what about…”

“What?” Rose laughed, and it was a beautiful sound. “Are you talking about shagging? Well, if you’re an old man, then absolutely not.” She grinned at him.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, “Sorry I brought it up…”

She turned serious, invading his space again, only centimeters from him, “I’m only kidding, Doctor. Still, this you is very attractive. I think we should take full advantage of it.” She kissed him again, slower and deeper this time, running a hand down his chest.

With some reluctance, he pulled back, “I think we should go somewhere else.”

“We can’t go back to my place, my mom’s there.”

“We could always go home,” he said. She smiled against his mouth, then nodded.

“Let’s go home.”

 

“I can’t believe you knew she was alive this whole time!” John was yelling, “Mycroft said she was dead.”

“That’s what I wanted him, and everyone else, to believe,” Sherlock said.

“They also needed to believe that I was in love with Sherlock and had been caught in the end,” Irene Adler said. She was sitting in their living room, looking average in jeans and a jacket. It was startling for John, who couldn’t think of anything to say, so she went on, “We made them believe that I loved Sherlock, them also including you, sorry. That way, when he caught me in the end, it looked like I had been weak, and was forced to give up all of my information, including what I’d gathered on Moriarty, which was the point of the whole thing really. Then, we faked my death, and later Sherlock’s, all so that we could bring that bastard down. We stayed in touch though, especially during the time he was ‘dead’ and you were with Mary. It was hard for him to be away from you, and to know you were with her. How is she by the way?”

“She’s good,” John said. “Was everything you told me a lie? I bet you’re not even gay, are you?”

She smiled at him, “No, but you are, aren’t you?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It never is,” She said.

“So you two…” John looked between Sherlock and Irene, swallowing convulsively.

Irene placed a hand over his, “John, no. As if I could take him from you, and he wouldn't have me anyways, not when there was even the slightest chance he could have you. I said it then, that the two of you were a couple, and I meant it, because it was the truth. You two boys were just too stubborn and stupid to see it yet.” She leaned back and smiled at him, “I’d never come between a love like that.”

“You were the one that cheated,” Sherlock muttered.

“What? You mean Mary? Sherlock we weren’t together then,” John said.

“Then why does it matter if I was with Irene? We weren't together then either.”

“Because she’s crazy and tormented us, that’s why.”

“I was acting,” Irene reminded him.

“And Mary’s a nice woman, and a dear friend still,” John went on, ignoring her. “You said so yourself.”

“Look,” Irene interrupted, “I’m sorry, John. I know it’s been hard for you. I didn’t want to mess up your life like this again when you are both so happy, but I’m in some trouble. When I said there would be people coming after me, that wasn’t a lie. That’s why everyone believed it when I ‘died.’ Some of them are closing in on me now, and I’m only here because I need somewhere to go until they back off.”

“Well, you can’t stay here,” John said, getting up and walking out of the room. It was just too much for him, to know that the whole time Irene and Sherlock had been working together to bring down Moriarty without his knowing.

“Sorry,” Sherlock said, sitting down in the seat John had occupied.

“It’s fine,” She said. “I told you we should have told him our plan from the beginning.”

“No, he shouldn’t have to lie like that,” Sherlock said. “He’s horrible at it anyways.”

She frowned at him, “And what about your death? Sherlock, you should have told him. He went through so much pain.”

“I know,” Sherlock said. There was a long silence, then he changed the subject, “There are some acquaintances I’ve made recently that I think could help you leave the country without a paper trail of any sort. They’re going to the United States soon, you could go with them.”

“Thank you, Sherlock,” she smiled.

“So, you married and divorced again?” Sherlock said, sitting back.

“Ugh, he was boring and snored,” she said. “It was awful, but it helped me lay low for a while, and when it was time to leave again, I got a nice bit of change to keep me going for some time.”

“Are you going to run like this for the rest of your life, then?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” she said. “There isn’t a place in this universe that I’m not wanted by somebody who isn’t willing to chase me to the ends of it.”


	9. Epilogue: A Hop Over The Pond? Shiny.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get this bird in the air.

They’d said their goodbyes, made promises to visit, send Christmas cards, all that. Irene kissed John and Sherlock on the cheek. Sherlock didn't really notice since he was busy trying to question Spock about their possible familial connection, but he was being tight-lipped. If anyone could run logical circles around the infamous Sherlock Holmes, it was Spock. John and Jim seemed to have struck up a bond, probably one born from both of them being the romantic interests of geniuses who were usually more than a little unattached to things emotionally. Their goodbye was a little heartbreaking, but no more so than Rose and Jackie’s. They’d tried to explain that Rose couldn’t die now, but Jackie was her mum. It was her job to worry, and she could do it with the best of them.

Finally, Jack, Jim, Spock, Rose, and Irene walked single-file into the TARDIS. Irene hadn’t really believe what Sherlock and John had told her, but now she dropped her duffle bag to the ground and gaped, “It’s so big.”

Rose and Jack laughed, and Irene smiled with them. They'd talked most of the morning and were making fast friends it seemed, and The Doctor rolled his eyes, closing the door so he could talk to Sherlock and John a moment. He fixed them with a serious look, “Remember, don’t be writing about this in your blog, or using it to your advantage. I’ll know if you do.”

“Alright, Santa Clause, calm down,” John said, grinning. He held out his hand, and The Doctor shook it, smiling back.

“Thank you for taking Irene with you,” Sherlock said. The Doctor shook his hand too.

“Sure thing,” The Doctor said. “It’s just a hop over the pond after all.”


End file.
